


Stuck

by thisisnotwhatihadplanned



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Autism, Depression, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, SO, Self Harm, basically like my other fics lol, i project onto tyler and he's comforted, or. nice healing by the end, yeah it's projection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28638426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisnotwhatihadplanned/pseuds/thisisnotwhatihadplanned
Summary: Tyler's brain was strong enough to ruin his life but too weak to save it.
Relationships: Jenna Black/Tyler Joseph
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	Stuck

**Author's Note:**

> In which the author projects heavily lol :/

Jenna grimaced. The orange juice tasted sour. Morseo than usual. She took another sip.

Her phone rang. 

Tyler's mom? 

"Hello?"

"Hey Jenna, thank goodness you picked up. Sorry, it's so early. Tyler. We can't find him anywhere. Not in the house, not outside, not- Sorry, what I wanted to ask you is if he was over there?"

Jenna took in the whirlwind of Kelly's words.

"Um, no. Have you reported it?"

"He's eighteen, an adult. So even with his autism he has to be gone for twenty four hours before the police will even look. When did you see him last?"

"Um, last night. He seemed kinda bummed but nothing serious. I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Oh god, Jenna. What if he's lost? You know how he is, he believes everyone is honest and kind." 

"He'll be okay. And he knows every street in this town."

"But he can't take the bu-"

Jenna had to interrupt.

"Did he take anything with him?"

"Just his hoodie. No wallet, nothing."

"Okay."

Jenna hung up. There was a chance he was outside in her yard, or even in her bedroom. He knew the window was always unlocked for him.

She called out around the house, looking through the backyard, under their trampoline. 

"What's up?" Jenna's mom. 

"Tyler's missing, and they don't know where he is." 

"Oh god. Is there anything I can do?"

"I don't know yet, just call me if he comes here."

_

Jenna had an idea.

"I'm going to go search his favorite places. The church, my school."

"Be safe, Jenna."

"I will."

Kelly hugged her fast and tight. 

_

Embarassed. 

Tyler had worked it out. He was embarassed. And now, after surely worrying his parents, he felt even more embarassed, and it was hurting him all over. 

He'd 'done a number on himself' as his mom would say. 

Scraped his knees at age nine "tyler, you've done a number on yourself."

Bruised his head hard. 

He had bruises now. 

Sometimes, you feel so fantastically horrible for no discernible reason, that you try to give yourself one, just to make things make sense again. 

Like last night. He winced. 

David gave him a key to the church a few years back, when he loved going. 

He still does, still needs to go and hear the music and see Jenna and Josh. But it became a more human love over the years. One less from the sense of a divine presence, and more from stealing shy kisses and laughing hard. 

It still felt holy, however, when he sat behind the pulpit. 

Oddly, no one went in the sanctuary during the week. The offices were full, the gym was used, and classrooms were cleaned. But not the sanctuary. They cleaned it on Sunday, when work wasn't supposed to happen. 

Tyler's stomach, the actual organ, always felt upside down when people didn't do the right thing, so seeing a janitor on Sunday afternoon when he was ten made him "flip out", as Zach would say. 

He stopped staring at the wood grain and started staring at the ceiling. He felt stuck there. 

Stuck. 

Stuck. 

Stuck like the same breakfast for a decade. 

Stuck like the same thought reigning the empire of your brain. Tyler's brain was strong enough to ruin his life but too weak to save it. 

Stuck like Jenna going off to college this fall and Tyler staying home. 

Stuck like Josh finding a job selling instruments and making music come together and Tyler staying in his basement playing for no one. 

Stuck like no car, no apartment, no state-issued diploma.

Stuck like no future. 

"Tyler?" 

He hit his head with an angry fist. The expectations, the beauty, the hurt. His stomach feels weird all the time. 

That was Jenna's voice. 

"Oh thank god. Literally, I guess." She giggled, looking at Tyler with a smile. 

"I'm so relieved."

"Stuck." His words were stuck, too. 

"Hey, hey. No hitting, Ty." 

Jenna called him Ty when she was being sweet and serious. 

She sat beside him. Her nails were painted orange, and her hair was still messy, like she didn't do it. 

He pulled his own hair too hard and Jenna saw it coming out. She opened her hands and Tyler took them. 

"Ty. Hey. Are you frustrated?"

"Embarassed."

"Why?"

He released her hands and tucked himself into the pulpit. 

_

Sometimes, things with Tyler were quiet. There was a lot of waiting, and she knew he didn't know what to do. 

That's what she thought as Tyler tapped the wood of the pulpit and listened to the sound it made when he pressed his ear up against it. 

"Tyler, do you want to play the piano?"

This set something off in him. 

Again, his hands went to his head. 

"No."

"So bad. The piano is for Sunday."

"Oh."

Jenna got it now. 

"Can I call your mom and tell her I found you?"

Tyler made a half sobbing noise. 

"Teenagers do stuff that their parents don't like sometimes. It's okay."

"But I don't like it."

Jenna didn't know what to say. 'Well, it already happened' was insensitive. So she didn't say anything. 

Instead she reached her hands towards him again. 

He took them, and she suddenly knew what to say. 

"Let's go home. We can take a nap." 

Tyler got up slowly, taking a bit to stretch out from staying in one spot for so long. 

He reached for her hand as they walked towards her car. 

_

"Hey Kelly, I found Tyler. He was at the church."

"Oh, thank goodness! Is he alright?"

"A little bruised up, but he's safe."

She didn't mention his listless stare and slow movements. She didn't mention that he looked depressed again. They'd talk about that seperately. 

"Can you hand the phone over to him?"

Jenna gave Tyler her phone.

"Yeah. Yeah. No. Mmmm. Mmm. Yeah. Love you."

Jenna glances at Tyler's face.

_

Tyler ended up getting yelled at, hugged, and fed lunch within ten minutes. Jenna stayed. Now they were on Tyler's twin bed, trying to fall asleep. Kelly made them keep the door open. 

"Why'd you sneak out last night?" Jenna kept scratching his scalp lightly, and his face was probably too close to her chest for Kelly's like, but who cared. 

He snuggled down even closer. 

"Depressed."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm."

"You still talk to people? You still get help?" 

"No."

"No what?"

"No talking."

"It's okay, you can talk to me." 

"Hum again."

Jenna started humming a tune and it made a nice rumbly sound next to Tyler's ear. 

"I try to talk but it's bad. Not right."

"You can't express yourself?"

"Can't."

"We'll find help for that after our nap. I want you to feel good again." 

"Okay." Tyler kissed her shirt. 

"Okay."  
_

Jenna woke up with a crick in her neck and Tyler on top of her. He was stil asleep, his breathing deep and even. He looked peaceful there, no furrowed brow, blessedly still. 

She twisted his hair gently and looked around his room. 

Not surprisingly, everything was in its place. 

He didn't have much, not from a lack of money, just from necessity. Jenna knew how visual clutter made it hard for him. 

A hand covered hers and pulled it down to Tyler's cheek. She complied. 

Today wasn't a talking day. 

Still, Jenna knew he wanted to stay in the bedroom, with its soft colors and familiar safety. 

For a few hours, Jenna drifted in and out of sleep. When fully she woke up, she saw Tyler across the room, shirt off. What was he doing? 

"Hmmmmn."

A slap to his head. 

"Ty?"

Tyler whipped around. 

Four angry marks across his left side, long and perfectly straight. 

Jenna's stomach dropped and she got chills. For one happy moment she assumed it was marker. 

Tyler was running to the bathroom. 

_

"Tyler? Can I come in?" 

It had been about ten minutes, Jenna sat outside the door to give him privacy, but to make sure he was safe (no funny noises). 

"Muhhh."

She took that as a yes, and unlocked the door with a penny. She opened it to Tyler sitting on the toilet, pants up. 

"Hey. What's all this?"

Tyler was crying, a few tears on his cheeks. The- his ribs, which Jenna didn't want to look at, moved up and down with his ragged breaths. 

"Stuck."

"Yeah" Jenna wiped his cheeks off, "yeah." 

"Don't. You. Don't act like you know." 

Jenna wanted to snap back but she bit her tounge. 

"I didn't know what to say."

"Sorry." It was soft. 

"It's okay."

Jenna took a deep breath. 

"Why did you cut yourself?"

"Tyler's bad. I hate him."

Third person. Oh. Tyler spoke like this when he couldn't express his own thoughts. When he'd heard someone else express his feelings, he used their words instead.

"Tyler?"

Tyler stopped pulling at his hair. 

"Does anyone else know that you hurt yourself?"

Tyler shook his head. Jenna backed up, knowing that her in his space, at a time like this, was too much. But still-

"Can I help you bandage them?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I- I need them. Hurt. Stuck. Stuck. Stuck."

"You're good. Okay?"

Tyler shook his head emphatically. 

"Why not?" Jenna felt that it was hurting him to talk, but it needed to get out. He needed it out or it'd fester. 

"Dumb. Gross. Creepy. Bad. Bad."

Jenna's eyes stung, and she wanted to smother him in love and kisses, but that wasn't the answer. 

"Tyler. Can you please let me bandage your- your cuts? You don't need to hurt more than you already do." 

Tyler's eyes looked empty again and it was a little while before he stood up, a silent surrender. Do what you want Jenna. 

That was not Tyler at all. She wanted him stubborn again, a trait she disliked when he was well, before she started missing it. 

"There you are." 

She knew where the first aid stuff was. 

"Last night. Before I left. I hurt."

Oh. 

Jenna rinsed the cuts with hydrogen peroxide and started to bandage them when Tyler started squirming. 

"Too much."

"Okay." 

Jenna knew that it was no use to argue anymore. Besides, she was tired. Instead, she kissed her hand and patted Tyler's side before looking at his face. In his eyes. He held it. 

"Don't make yourself uncomfy." 

"Yes." He kept her gaze. 

Jenna's heart started hurting again. 

"Can we tell your mom? She can get help, therapy, something." 

Tyler didn't answer. He was too still. 

"I love you."

No response.

_

Kelly looked from her son to his girlfriend and back again. They were sitting on the couch. One of them was looking at her, the other one was sitting on his hands and looking at the tv.

She turned the tv off.

"Okay, you guys had something to tell me?"

Part of her expected them to tell her that Jenna was pregnant. Most of her had no idea what they were about to say. 

"Tyler needs help. He feels really bad. He wrote a letter to help him share." 

Tyler fished a folded peice of notebook paper out of his hoodie pocket and extended his hand. He rocked nervously. So it was serious? 

In Tyler's careful, shaky script, lay words that hurt her: 

"Mom,

I hurt myself because I hate myself. I have no friends, besides Jenna and Josh. They go do normal things, like hang out with friends. I don't. I'm weird and bad and creepy and I hate myself. Jenna wants me to feel better. I want to feel and be better. Please help me. 

Sincerely, 

Tyler" 

Kelly never heard that much verbally from her son, but she could picture him saying that. And it hurt, knowing that all of that was held in his eyes. And Kelly couldn't tell. She thought he was just having a moody patch, like all teenagers do. 

"Tyler?" He stopped picking his lips. 

"We're gonna get you help. And I know it doesn't mean much because I'm your mother, but you're not creepy or bad, okay? I love you, I wouldn't have you any other way. Then you wouldn't be Tyler, huh?" 

Tyler shook his head hard. 

"Love you." 

At least he could answer that. 

_

A few months passed and Tyler felt okay again. Bad days and good days mixed until the ratio of bad days to good days became father apart. 

Still, he hurt and got frustrated and forgot all he learned in therapy during really bad moments. 

Night time was hard, always had been. It was a long process, falling asleep, and Tyler usually felt bored and uncomfortable laying in bed, listening to his brother's snoring. 

His parents wanted him to keep the same bedroom that he'd always had, and honestly, that was probably best. However, he was allowed to convert part of the basement into a makeshift studio for his music. 

Just being down there made him feel better, sometimes. 

That's why he crept down to the basement after everyone was asleep and created music. 

He understood music, understood patterns and how they came together, understood the ongoing heartbeat of it all. It was something that he could do. Something that, finally, came easy to him. It was easy to look at videos and check out books about recording. It was easy to translate his thoughts into sound, unlike trying to make words work. 

When he sat somewhere, when he felt something, when he saw the way sunlight filtered through Jenna's blonde hair, he could hear it in music. 

He was forever grateful that his therapist asked him what he liked to do. Not what he had to do, not what he should improve on, not what his parents wanted him to do, but what he liked to do. Oddly, he just realized then how much he needed music to do anything, to focus, to play games to, how it made car rides and church bareable. 

"Hmmmm." 

He was laid on his basement carpet. It was shaggy and he liked rubbing his hand on it. No one was there to object, and night hours are endless. At least they seem so to Tyler. Sometimes it was lovely, he could relax and make and dance and hum. Other times it meant his mind came too alive and sucked him in. His daydreams weren't pleasant. 

But right now he was sleepy, a feeling unfamiliar but welcome. He closed his eyes, and nothing was waiting for him behind his eyelids. He thought of Jenna and fell asleep.


End file.
